


Pleasant Nightmares

by Abysmal (Triyune)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dark, Desperation Play, M/M, Psychological Horror, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Sexual Violence, Strangulation, Torture, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28549254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triyune/pseuds/Abysmal
Summary: Various one-shots (this time for real!) telling of the dark and wicked depths of the human mind and the shadows which roam this eery place.The Joker is known for them; but just as well, Bruce Wayne got his own hell fires to extinguish.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	Pleasant Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be updated only sporadically.

** Destrudo **

Three men entered and I slapped on a smile.

“G'day, boss.”

“Cheers.”

“...”

“Good evening, ladies. Take a seat.”

“Jirrs and Meds? Is this going to be another one of _those_ jobs?”

Johnny looked at the two other men. Jirrs grinned at him while Meds visibly lapsed into shock. I waited patiently until Johnny was done with his evaluation and finally sat down, having the others joining him on the seats.

“Gentlemen,” I started off, sat down on the table and folded my hands in my crotch.

Johnny glanced at my hands, then he locked eyes with me. I grinned.  
He propped his head up and hid his mouth behind his eyes, peering hard at me.  
I had not found out yet what was wrong with him. Sometimes, I failed to read him and that worried me since he was one of the few people I simply could not figure out sometimes.  
I spent more time glaring back at him than I should have until I remembered that _I_ was the boss. I crossed my arms and let him stare at me while I looked at the three of them.

“I want Bruce Wayne,” I started without any introduction, “Rumours have it he knows about the true identity of the Batman. Let's try. On Wednesday, 3pm, he’ll leave the tower, you know the Wayne tower?”

“Yes.”

“You do the search and sedate. Johnny, you get the gun, Meds you give it to him-”

“Boss, we know what we have to do,” Johnny interrupted me, speaking through his fingers.

I kept my mouth open as I had been about to say “and” and froze. Maybe I had caught him on the wrong foot today when convening this meeting. I shut my mouth and narrowed my eyes, giving him a piercing stare.  
Thinking of the gun in my pocket, I licked my lips and Johnny instantly dropped his hand and daring look and sat up. At least, he knew me well enough to tell that he'd soon be in trouble if he didn't shut up now.

“May I continue now?” I said with a very low and threatening voice.

Johnny cleared his throat and Jirrs peeked at him while Meds had bowed his head right after my first words, gazing at the floor.

“Well, thank _you_. You get him here and as soon as he wakes up here, you don’t listen to what he says, you got me? You _don’t_. We don’t want any shit like back then with Scorriano. Do we.”

“No.”

“Stick to it. Do your things, stick to your agenda and don’t listen, whatever he says. And let’s see whether we can get a name out of _this_ one now. I won't speak a word tonight; you will do the show.”

“You want the usual stuff? The beatin, the funnel and the stick?”

“Not the stick.”

The “stick” was a piece of metal, resembling a very long easter egg. It was shoved up the victim's ass and usually, they tended to connect it with a TENS unit and fry their asses, but I had other plans tonight. 

“Do the beating and the funnel anyway. And take a little more care, don’t _kill_ him, okay? Hurt him, but don’t kill him. Not like you did with Scagaline. Not such a mess, okay?”

“Okay, boss.”

“And Meds, just pull yourself together, okay?”

“Okay, boss.”

Two days later, the three drove to the Wayne tower and parked their car in the next street. They waited until Mr. Wayne left the building and followed him from a safe distance. He went around the building to the adjacent parking place and they hid behind the cars and watched him closely. At this time, there was no one else there and they were confident that they'd manage to catch him today. When he opened the door of his car, he startled and clutched at his neck, but it was too late; the tranq dart had already emptied itself into his system.  
He took it to look at it, but he didn't see much since his vision was already getting blurred. He couldn't help the panic at realizing that he had become the victim of an assault and had no time for any kind of defence anymore.

Johnny petted the shooter's shoulder, acknowledging his skills. They watched him slumping down, then they left their hideout. Two of them heaved the body into the car while the third one left to get their car. Until he had driven it to the parking place, the other two waited and pretended to talk about business matters. He parked the car close to them and the two transferred the body into their car, locked his and drove off.

I was waiting for them at the temple of love; a building I had acquired for special purposes. It was located in the industrial district and no screams or other kind of telling noises would raise any suspicion in that area. Maybe, I would need to consider finding a new one after this anyway since I thought him capable of tracking me or my stooges down and finding out about the address of this building.

My three wannerds came back to me, carrying precious cargo. A slack body wrapped up in neat business attire was hanging from their hands, one of his legs cleaning up the floor as it was dragged along behind them. As soon as I saw his face, his closed eyes and relaxed features, an adrenaline surge made my cheeks blush. They had really managed to catch and deliver him. At that moment, I even considered giving them a raise for this.

They dropped the body in the middle of the room and freed his feet. I walked up to him and knelt down. Johnny was about to undress him as usual, but I pushed his hand away and started unbuttoning his jacket. This time, I would take care of that. The three of them stepped aside and watched me as I pulled the jacket from his body.

An exceptional opportunity. Never, I had been around him when he had been unconscious and I gloried in touching him like that. His head hit the ground as the jacket left his body.  
I removed the tie, then I unbuttoned his shirt and tugged at it until his body slid out of it. Like a sack of potatoes. It was such a sensual experience for me to interact with this unconscious body that I couldn't help the grin and even less the growing erection.  
His arm was draped over his chest, his other lying next to his body. I sat down on his thighs, opened the belt and pulled it out of the loops. I stared at his crotch and asked myself whether seeing him naked there would be different from seeing those other victims naked. 

Until I became aware of the three watching me staring at his dick. But then again, I wouldn't need to care; they were used to my unconventional behaviour and all of them were loyal enough to not question anything I did. _Usually_.  
Very slowly, I put my hands on the button and pressed it through the hole, then I opened the fly, got up from his thighs and pulled his pants down. Black boxers.

“Take his pants,” I said and waited patiently until the shoes, socks and pants were gone and his hairy legs showing.

Grinning, I playfully hooked my forefinger into the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down a little. If undressing was turning into such a ceremony already I knew that the rest of the evening would leave me pleasantly satisfied. Black pubic hair was curling under me.  
A little further down.  
The base of his penis.  
It felt so wicked that I was thrilled to bits when I thought of exposing the whole piece. Meds shifted his weight next to me, but I was in no hurry. 

I grabbed the waistband, pulled it down and let it rest under his testicles. It was pressing against them from below, pushing them up a little and making them look all firm and tight. I examined them closely, then I turned to his penis. All limp and relaxed. How big would it be when he'd be hard. I nudged it with my forefinger and was surprised at how soft it felt.

“Well, guys, let's start the show,” I proclaimed, got up and stepped aside to let them work.  
Though, as I stepped aside, I glimpsed at Johnny to see what he thought of what had just happened. Not out of insecurity, but out of curiosity. He was smirking, not noticing my glance and just getting down to tie his wrists up again. I smirked too, again being assured of him being my most loyal and clinical man despite his occasional outbursts of questioning my authority. My smirk grew into a grin as he moved his arms behind his back to tie them up there. It only took him a minute, then he tightened the rope around his wrists to make sure that his hands would go numb within five minutes.  
That was the reason why he was my right-hand man.

I chuckled and crossed my arms, watching them turning him over again and connecting the ties with the rope which was hanging from the ceiling. We’d lift him up as soon as he’d wake up.  
Grinning with anticipation, I stared at the lifeless body on the floor for some more moments, then I turned around and walked to the table which was about 6 metres away from the body. I sat down on a chair, crossed my legs and pulled the hat down so it would cover my eyes. Nothing of my appearance would tell him that I was the Joker. I had put on a black trench coat, latex gloves, simple black pointy shoes and a black hat. However, in case he’d happen to look at my face though, I had applied make-up to resemble a random mafia guy.

Tonight, he should not see that I was the Joker. My wannerds would take care of him and I’d watch from the distance. Tonight, I felt like watching, tending to my voyeuristic side. I had touched him already and I was so worked up from those few moments already that I had to leave him in order not to eat him alive. The fact that this average looking man was the Batman made it all special for me and it was more than just a random entertainment show to make the night a little more enjoyable.

Anyway, the last three fights with the Bat had been a little disappointing, always ending with me escaping the usual way and him chasing after me until he’d not see me anymore. Not even some face punches or gut kicking; nothing of that; only some wild air kicking and thrashing, leaving me terribly unsatisfied. I was in the mood for violence and he wasn’t giving it to me, so I had to take it from him. Not in the way he’d approve of it, but if he didn’t give it to me deliberately I’d have to force it on him.

The body moved. I watched his eyelids fluttering and his arms moving until he realized that he was not at the toilet of the Wayne tower and getting a blowjob from his hottest secretary. He squirmed and coiled like a snake until he came to understand that his arms were tied up behind his back.  
I clicked my fingers and Johnny pulled at the rope. His arms were lifted first, then his body followed and since it was too painful than to take this without any expression of protest, he gasped and hurried to put his feet on the ground to ease the pain. 

When he was standing there and his arms at the height of his chest behind his back, Johnny stopped pulling and fastened the rope so he’d remain in this position. Until his legs would give way. He looked like a bonnet mascot now with arms forced back instead of wings.  
The three of them gathered in front of him, crossed their arms and two of them grinned at him.

“Welcome, Mr. Wayne. We’re sorry that we are not able to offer you a luxury seat; this is all we have,” Johnny started his introduction, “But we hope that you will enjoy your stay here. We will do our best to make it as cosy and comfy as possible. Not for _you_ anyway,” he ended and lifted his eyebrow, smirking.

“So we have been told you know about the secret identity of the Batman, Mr. Wayne,” Meds continued, cutting Johnny off, who stared at him in annoyance in return.

I watched his face closely to not miss his reaction.  
Of course I knew that Bruce Wayne was the Batman, but I just wanted to have some fun with him. With both, actually; Mr. Wayne and the Bat. Killing two bats with one stone.  
I folded my hands and put them on my thigh, already enjoying this to the max, watching his stupid expression, confused and not understanding yet what kind of trouble was waiting there for him.

“Are you listening?” Jonny asked him, gripped his jaw and forced him to look at him.

He tried to turn his head away, but Johnny made a swift move and almost snapped his neck. It drew a cry from him and he gave up resistance. I was wondering when he'd start talking.

“Good. We have been told you know about the civil name of the Batman. And we kindly ask you to reveal it to us,” he said, smiling and squeezing his jaw.

“Ey, Johnny, he can’t speak like that,” Jirrs said and nudged his side with his elbow.

“Right,” Johnny said and let go.

None of their words or actions happened by accident. They had a fixed choreography and we were at stage 1 – intimidation.  
I was sure that we would get to stage 5 in the course of the evening. He wouldn’t reveal his true identity. Never.

“Please, Mr. Wayne, would you tell us now,” Johnny said and bowed to him.

He snorted and his expression changed to amusement. I had not expected anything else but that. He shook his head and said: “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Johnny smiled at him, then he took the knife from his pocket.

“Please,” he said again, smiling.

I watched him glancing at the knife, then back at Johnny and then, finally at me. Just a black anonymous figure sitting on a chair. 

“You working for that clown over there?” he said with a dismissive voice.

I froze and clenched my teeth. Had I done something wrong, something to reveal my identity?

“I asked you about a _name_ ,” Johnny said and took a step towards him to press the blade against his chest, “Not about your questions.”

He gave a short laugh and said, looking at me: “It’s always the same with you, isn’t it.”

I started sweating. I had told them to ignore his remarks and now I could hardly keep myself from ignoring them. Johnny cut his chest; testing his pain threshold. He took it without batting an eye. Quite impressed, Johnny repeated that at his other side and when he still didn’t see nor hear any sign of trouble, he reached out and let the knife swipe across his chest. That finally made him stifle a groan and narrow his eyes.  
Johnny pressed the blade against his cheek and asked him about the name again, but he pressed his lips together and glared back.

“You know, none of this needs to happen if you just tell us. And promise, we won't tell anyone else.”

Of course, that assurance did not impress him and he just grinned back at Johnny. Now Jirrs chose to interrupt them, took the knife from his hands and Johnny made way for him.

“Mr. Wayne, I should warn you. This one here won't be as indulgent as I am trying to be to you,” Johnny said and put his hands into his pockets.

But Jirrs was already moving the blade down his throat, leaving a thin cut behind. He let it scrape over his collarbone and then down his chest and stomach. Mr. Wayne tried to compose himself and simply kept glaring at the offender. Until that one had reached the desired spot between his ribcage and hip bone and pushed the blade in without any warning. A quick and controlled short thrust until the blade had ripped his skin and the first layer of muscles, then he stopped for a moment, indulging in the shocked expression of the man and then he pushed it further in.  
Slowly.  
Savouring the feeling of sharpened metal cutting through skin and flesh. He groaned through his nose and tried to hunch his back but quickly gave it up since he was hurting his shoulders that way.

I loved tying them up like that since it made it all worse for them. They'd try to dodge the blows or sink down on their knees, but if they did so, they'd just hurt themselves. A pinch of hopelessness. I loved watching them despairing in the course of the evening, getting weaker and weaker until they _had_ to surrender themselves and had to accept the inevitable.  
Jirrs pulled the knife out and the result was profuse bleeding; blood trickling down his naked hip and thigh. The colour of pain on his body was such a delightful sight.

Jirrs had not hit any vital parts and although it was bleeding quite briskly, it wouldn't kill him. We'd let him dangle some more, then we'd patch him up. Meds had already left to get the first aid kit. He was one of those who could not enjoy that the way we did, but still, he was part of the team since he was the cleverest with his hands.

The blood trickled down his leg and he tried to remain as calm as possible and not move much. Jirrs licked the blade clean and handed it over to Johnny who put it away again.

“What does it taste like?” Johnny asked him while Meds spread the first aid stuff on the table behind them.

“Resistance,” Jirrs replied with a grin, showing his blood-smeared teeth.

Sometimes, I had the feeling they were worse than me.

“Really?” Johnny asked him and took a step towards the hanging bat.

He pushed a finger into the wound and made him squirm for a few moments, then he licked the blood from his finger and smacked his lips.

“You're right,” he proclaimed and spat out right in front of his feet.

While Meds took care of the wound now, they left to get a few more toys. The room was filled with them; many objects and devices stored to tend to all the needs of our involuntary clients.  
Of course, they could have prepared them before the show already, but it was more fun to search for them right during the event to scare the guests some more.  
Meds bandaged his stomach while the Bat clenched his teeth and angrily stared at the wall until he hissed as Meds tugged at the bandages to compress the wound. 

“You're not the first one who's asking me about that silly thing,” he growled and turned his head to look at me, trying to hold still as Meds was working on the bandages.

I narrowed my eyes a little and tittered to myself, trying not to let him see that. Johnny and Jirrs were looking at me expectantly, but I remained calm. Most of the time, I took an active part in torturing and having words with them too, but tonight, I remained silent.

“You just don't get it,” he continued breathlessly as Meds pulled some more to fix the bandages, “You still have no idea what this is all about. It's people like you who shouldn't be around at all. And I'm glad we got the Batman who takes care of this.”

When Jirrs finally understood that I would not put a stop to this monologue at all, sticking to my claim that I would not talk to the victim tonight, he grinned maliciously and asked him: “Of _what_.”

“Of people like _you_.”

“People like us? What's so bad about us?” Johnny continued the small talk.

“You think you can achieve just _any_ thing with violence. But the world is full of hard-working men who try to make an honest living and who succeed-”

“Oh come on. Are you Mister Justice or what?” Jirrs interrupted him and crossed his arms.

I had told them not to join any talk, but a little of that wouldn't hurt. After all, it gave me the chance to get to know my men some more and see whether they'd be immune to the charm of the Bat.  
He gave a short laugh which ended abruptly as he flinched, feeling the wound hurting.

“Justice,” he said dismissively, “doesn't even have something to do with this.”

“But?”

The Bat gritted his teeth and glared at the speaker.

“It's about honour,” he said with a constrained voice.

Jirrs burst into laughing next to him and Johnny rose his lips for a smirk, glanced at Jirrs and had his smirk growing.

“Oh sure. Honour,” he repeated and crossed his arms.

Meds was done by now and doing some cleaning up, disinfecting his hands and taking stock of the utensils of the first aid kit, trying to stall for time.

“Geez, do you have to do that _now_?” Johnny commented on his efforts to distract their attention, “We're in the middle of a selection interview! Put that away, darn it!”

My countenance slipped for a moment and I smirked, but I hurried to relax my lips again. Meds shot him a shy glance, then he threw all the stuff into the box and carried it to the back of the room. Meanwhile, Johnny and Jirrs planted themselves in front of the Bat, grinning at him.

“Honour, Mr. Wayne,” Johnny started off with his head tilted, “is for those who can afford it.”

They stared at each other until Jirrs looked from the Bat to Johnny and back again, trying to find out what was going on between them and what he clearly was missing.

“Anyone can afford it,” the Bat replied, finally.

“In your world, maybe.”

The Bat kept staring at him, not knowing what to reply. And Johnny smiled at him.

“It's so easy to talk big with an ass full of billions,” he continued, crossing his arms and I cocked my ears, wondering which kind of elaborate explanation of the world I was going to hear from dear Johnny Joe tonight.

“You've never seen a hophead asking for more when he's cash-strapped and probably, you've never seen a mother dying for her child, feeding it the last grains of rice while she's starving. The world could be a lovely place, Mr. Wayne. But it isn't. It's full of misery and pain. And there are two kinds of people roaming this world: Those who choose to accept and try to endure it and those who choose to take over control. I know both sides, Mr. Wayne. I've been dealing with people like you half my life; I've been a hard-working man who tried to make an honest living by serving them and it's gotten me nowhere, just further down actually. I can't buy bread with honour.”

The Bat was listening in silence and with every further word, his expression turned grimmer.

“And I can't buy bread with good deeds.”

“But it doesn't have to be like this,” the Bat chose to interpose, “The Batman is fighting for a new kind of order so hard-working people like you don't need to turn to such means.”

What a sugary and empty phrase.  
A very big and indulgent grin spread in Johnny's face and he walked closer to him and fondled his cheek. The Bat froze and stood it. Johnny shook his head while he gently brushed over his skin and I took a deep breath, being pleasantly surprised at this weird and uncommon interlude.

“Maybe, in a different world, I wouldn't need to turn to such means, you are right, Mr. Wayne. But...”

He cupped his cheek, moved even closer until their noses were almost touching and I sat up to take in as much of this intensity as I could, then he whispered against his face:  
“But I like what I'm doing.”

And he contorted his face with a big nasty grin and gave him a kiss.  
I sucked in the air, so loudly that all of them could hear it and I was about to protest when I remembered my role and my vow of silence. Of course he only did that to unsettle him. I straightened my back and crossed my legs, then I leaned back again, hiding my mouth behind my fingers as my chin was resting on my hand.

Johnny drew back and the Bat gazed at him in terror. Another mischievous grin, then Johnny stepped back again. He bit down on his lower lip and grinned, waiting in silence until Meds was finally done with the incredibly difficult task of putting the first aid kit back in place and returned to them. It was hard for him to stand these two freaks torturing people, but I insisted on his company every time since he was not only clever with his hands but also our medicine man.

When Meds had found his place to be, right behind my chair, Johnny said with his business voice: “We're done with the formalities now, Mr. Wayne. Give us a name or we will proceed. At your own risk.”  
But he didn't even look at them anymore and gazed into space.

Stage 2: Brute force

Since the Bat kept silent, Johnny kicked his guts and he gasped. The sound made me press my legs together and concentrate on not showing my arousal. He bent over but stopped since his posture didn’t allow for any kind of that movement without dislocating his shoulders. Instead, he got up on his toes to be able to hunch his back a little at least.

“You go-“

He was silenced by a punch right into his face which left his nose bleeding. He was breathing hard. And so was I. I swallowed, barely able to keep still on my seat.  
Come on. Complain some more. Tell them how much you hate them.

“Once again, Wayne. Who. is. Batman.”

He snorted, spat out and kept staring at the floor, such anger in his eyes that I could not help smiling faintly.  
Never he would reveal his identity.  
Never.  
They’d have to kill him and not even then, he would reveal it.

Johnny punched his face again and he cried out when his body was pushed to the side by that punch and his shoulders were twisted in an unhealthy way.  
His cries of pain were stimulating me in such a wicked way that I was on the way to super-hardness already, and that just after an hour. I had had many people here already; some bigwigs and many stooges and I wasn't picky. Here, every single one of them was getting the treatment he deserved and those nights were always great fun. Some more, some less. But Mr. Wayne in his sweetest distress here, hanging in those ties, taking all those punches and the following abuse so readily - he was getting me hard within a minute.

His head was hanging down and he looked like recollecting himself after this punch. Blood dripped on the floor. I sat up a little and craned my neck to see his face, but it was partially hidden behind his hair. He growled and lifted his head again. His bleeding nose had gotten worse.  
By now, I was sure that he did not know who I was. Had he known about my identity, I'd have heard some more remarks and hints; I knew him well enough to be sure about this.

“Just give us a name.”

He gritted his teeth and glared at the speaker. The next moment, his head snapped to the side again as brass knuckles collided with his jaw. He did a pirouette; that blow had been too hard; then he slumped down and yelled in pain as the roof beam creaked under his weight.  
Superb.  
A splendid choreography of torture. And a perfectly aesthetic and strong subject. I grinned under the rim of my hat and rubbed my thighs together.  
Give me more. You can take much more; I know you can. Scream for me. Bleed for me. Break for me. Your body can take a lot, I know by now. But how much can your mind take? Can it take _this_ me at all?

A pained gasp echoed in the shabby building as his guts were compressed in a very painful way again. I loved it when hard bones hit tender flesh. I could hardly keep myself from getting up and doing it myself, but he would have recognized me by the way I walked and acted, so I had to remain seated and watch in silence.  
The bandages were getting soaked with his blood.

“Nothing more but a stupid name!” Jirrs yelled at him and kicked his bowels.

I knew that the next kick would crush his jewels. They always did it the same way, starting with the face and working their way down the victim’s body, down to the toes. And one after the other would break. However, usually, they were spilling the info before they got to that. Anyway, I was curious how much he could take before he’d pass out to save himself.

“Just a name!!!”

But no name was heard.  
And Johnny rammed his knee into his crotch. The treatment drew an ear-splitting scream from him which slowly died away.  
He had bent his head and his arms were trembling, but he could not straighten his back anymore to ease that pressure. He was sweating, I could see the salty water glistening on his skin even from over here. Blood and sweat on the floor and the puddle kept growing. I could really lose myself in this; the use as well as the witnessing of violence was such a whole-body experience for me that my mind was buzzing and my body twitching in sexual rapture.

Jirrs left the place and got himself a spreader bar. When he knelt down, placing it between his thighs and waiting for Johnny to help him fasten the straps, he received a kick into his face and fell backwards. Finally, some resistance.  
I couldn't keep myself from grinning and even Johnny honoured that desperate attempt at defence with a laugh, then he crushed his balls with his knee again and while the Bat was busy trying to survive this blow, they forced his legs apart and finally fastened the straps.

Slowly, this was turning into a jolly fine session and I already felt sorry that I didn't have a camera with me to log this when he lifted his head and glared at me. That look sent a shiver down my spine. Blood everywhere, his face glistening with sweat, his cheek swollen from the abuse. I peered back at him from under the hat, with all my might trying to keep myself from grinning since he'd have figured me out within the blink of an eye then. I was glad that I had put on make-up and though, I feared that he'd recognize my features. Thus, I had to keep still and not do one of those telling gestures which just happened when I was upset or agitated. That turned out to be quite hard work for me and I clutched my thigh and dug my nails into it, barely able to bear with the intensity of this moment. 

“If you're having such an intimate moment right now we'll leave you two lovebirds alone for a minute,” Johnny said with a gleeful voice, took Jirrs' arm and pulled him towards the door with Meds following deliberately. 

I had to condone that verbal deep hit from Johnny and just took a deep breath. Sometimes, Johnny just enjoyed changing sides and lashing out at me too. Usually, I took it without taking any actions against him since my pride kept me from exposing myself to inconsistency. If I dished out I'd also have to be able to take it. And it was nothing more but childish jokes.  
I locked eyes with the Bat and heard the door being shut. And I was forced to spend a horribly long time staring back at him while they had their fun outside, sharing a smoke and some more.

He didn't say anything. Just that piercing glare telling me that he'd hunt me down as soon as he'd be able to and _not_ take me to Blackgate or Arkham.  
For a moment, I thought about revealing my identity and having my fun with him, but that way, keeping my disguise, I'd just be able to do that kind of thing with him again. The corners of my mouth twitched and I buried my nails deeper in my thigh.  
The longer he stared at me, the more fidgety I got until I decided to help myself and crossed my legs again.

Five minutes passed in absolute silence, then I heard them laughing behind the door. He didn't turn his head at all but kept staring daggers at me. I'd have wished to say so many things and simply couldn't. In fact, I was more tied up than him right now.  
Suddenly, he rose his lips and grinned at me.  
Such a horrible grin that for the first time in my life, I had a cold shiver running down my back at witnessing someone smiling. Never, I had seen this expression before. He gritted his teeth and grinned at me like a death's head.

Most likely, he was drawing pleasure from knowing that whatever we would do, he would not speak about the name. Brute force would not get us anywhere.  
But I didn't mind; I really didn't mind. My ambitious aim was not to get a name out of him about which I knew anyway, after all. My aim was just to have some fun tonight, so his silent laughter left me cold. My facade slipped and my lips moved, but quickly enough, I became aware of that and pressed them together to not let that smile come to full bloom.

However, he had witnessed that lapse of self-control and his grin faded. Even more so, I was tempted to grin at him now and I moved on my seat to bite it back.  
Brute force would not get us anywhere, right. The problem was just that we enjoyed it too much than to let ourselves be discouraged from more of its use by its apparent pointlessness.  
Johnny kicked the door open and sailed back into the room, Jirrs and Meds following and chuckling.

“So, you had a good time?” Johnny started teasing me again, grinning at me.

I could _see_ the dope in his eyes. Sometimes, they chose to smoke a bud and do some snorting at the same time and when they did so, they were invincible. Whenever they did that, I could look forward to the following scenes since they turned quite creative and enjoyed trying out new things. And I let them. They knew the rules and never, they had violated them. Even that one time with Scagaline, they had not violated the rules either; I simply had forgotten to inform them about the specifics and if they were presented with the chance of having a really good time they'd have it. Johnny and Jirrs, at least.

I snorted loudly enough for him to hear my disapproval of his conduct and then turned my head to look at him again. He was gazing at them, dreading the next hours. And he was right to do so.

“Johnny what you think? Tha gons?”

“Yah tha gons,” Johnny replied, speaking in some Scottish dialect and I had to clench my teeth to keep myself from laughing.

I myself had no clue about “tha gons” whatsoever. It was always a pleasure to watch them choosing their weapons and I did not exactly know about all those various things stored in this building. They had equipped it with all sorts of funny stuff and still kept adding some and “tha gons” was something they had not used before.

Stage 3: The big guns aka “tha gons”

Johnny and Jirrs disappeared in the back of the room and I heard some clinking metallic sounds. I craned my neck in curiosity, but I could not spot them anymore behind the shelves.  
After a minute of intense laughing and more noise and even a hammer dropping on the floor, they returned with two huge guns in their hands. Not the usual kind of guns; actually, I had never seen that model before.  
Jirrs spilled the content of a bag on the table; the bullets. They loaded them, then the three of them joined me to my left and right and Meds still hiding behind me.

“Loaded!” Jirrs shouted and shouldered the gon.

“Cocked _and_ loaded!” Johnny shouted and I bent my head, closed my eyes and sighed.

Jirrs took the gon from his shoulder and aimed at the man in ties who looked like he was believing that he was looking right into the muzzle of death now.

“A _name_ , Mr. Wayne!” Johnny called and lifted the gun to aim at him as well.

“Fuck you!” he spat out and a mist of blood was in the air for a few moments.

He sounded quite agitated and his anger was still keeping him on his legs. Those kicks and punches would have sent the strongest victim down, but he, he was the Batman. I knew that he could take a lot and it was still going to be a long evening.  
I rubbed my chin and grinned. Whatever those gons were, they would not kill him with them.

“Go,” I whispered to the shooters, “Give it to him.”

They aimed and shot. Two rubber bullets hit his body; one his chest, the other his shoulder and he cried out with pain. Johnny aimed at the same spot again, fired, and his scream was even louder than the one before. His ribs wouldn't break. Yet.  
In order to distract him from his aching chest, Jirrs sent a bullet against his forehead and he almost toppled over backwards, but he caught himself and flung his head around. He blinked a few times, swallowed hard again and then bent his head to not provide them with that target again.

“Oh Johnny be good,” I whispered, spread my legs and shamelessly squeezed my hard-on.

Johnny got it and fired. The bullet hit his balls and his legs gave way. For a few moments, his full weight was only held by his shoulders until it got too painful and he had to support himself otherwise again. He was panting and swallowing a few times, trying to suppress the urge to gag. I took a deep breath and squeezed my dick again. Bet you're going nuts.

“Just two words and we'll free you,” Meds said and I could hear the beseeching undertone in his voice.

The Bat struggled in his ties again, a lot more half-heartedly than before, then he gave it up again and gazed at the floor. He would take whatever we'd give him.

“Fire,” I whispered, my voice wavering.

Two bullets hit those perfectly shaped thighs and since he was tensing them up anyway, it would hurt like hell. I twitched when I heard the sound of them hitting his body and sat up a little. I watched his thighs trembling and lifted an eyebrow, not quite believing that he would give in already and break his bones.  
His knees gave way and he struggled to keep himself up. Just wait until they'd proceed with stage 4.

Jirrs lifted the gun again to aim, but Johnny put it down and said: “No more,” then he stepped closer and whispered into his ear, yet his voice not low enough for me to miss it, “Boss wants to have some more fun with this one.”  
Jirrs lowered the gun and dealt him a disappointed look, but Johnny just smiled, took both guns and handed them over to Meds, then he said to him: “Get the water.”  
Meds clenched his teeth and hesitated for a moment, just some seconds, but long enough to upset Johnny and he yelled at him: “The water!!!”

He had no choice but to comply, so he left his petrifaction and slowly went to the back of the room to get a 3-litres-canister which was filled with water. Johnny was grinning already and Mr. Wayne bent his head, knowing that this grin wasn’t boding well.

“It could be so easy Mr. Wayne,” Jirrs said, “Just a name and we will stop.”

He could have such a soft voice when he wanted to and he coud be such a sadistic bastard when he saw that the situation permitted him to act it out.  
But Mr. Wayne did not react to his angelic voice and kept gazing at the floor.

“Get the funnel,” Johnny said.

Stage 4: The funnel

Again, Meds went to get it and when he came back, Johnny was already holding the Bat's head and trying to force him to open his mouth. They knew their stuff and in the wink of an eye, Johnny had him gasping and opening his mouth. Jirrs took the funnel and forced the attached tube down his throat. I lifted my head, now that he was squinting his eyes shut, and watched his face closely. He jerked, his body getting triggered to gag. I heard the sound from over there even.

Again, a gagging sound, how he slightly hunched his back and his body tensed up its abdominal muscles to defend itself against the violent plastic intruder; with perverse delight, I savoured his bodily reactions and watched him despairing some more.  
With his head lifted, yielding to the tube in his throat, he gazed at the ceiling wide-eyed, dreading what was going to follow. Since the funnel was just above his head, they didn’t need a ladder at all; they were pros by now, causing as much damage as possible with the least effort and minimum number of tools.

Johnny lifted the canister and started pouring the water into the funnel. He had to hurry up since our victim wasn’t able to breathe at all. He’d be able to hold his breath for quite some time, but not forever. As the water disappeared in his stomach, Jirrs started grinning and Meds cleared his throat and crossed his arms, hunching his shoulders. He knew what that felt like; it had been done to him too before he had sided with the Joker.  
I smiled and turned my eyes back on Mr. Wayne, whose stomach was bulging by now. One litre. Two to go.

He tensed up and his head jerked, but Jirrs held it in place, patiently waiting until another litre was in his stomach, then Johnny put the canister down and Jirrs removed the tube and the funnel. He bent over, coughing and wheezing and I watched him closely. Pure distress.  
Johnny gripped his chin and made him look up. The anger was gone from his eyes and there was just despair in them.

“A name.”

He coughed again, right into Johnny's face and he let go of him and slapped him.

“Jirrs,” Johnny said and gripped his chin again to stretch his neck and prepare him for the last bit.

The tube was forced down his throat again and he gagged, but that wouldn't help him get rid of it. Jirrs let the water flow into the funnel and he tensed up again, this time so violently that Johnny almost lost his grip on his head.

“More,” Johnny demanded and Jirrs emptied the canister into his guts, but it was more than his body could take and the water flowed from the funnel as his guts cramped.

“Quick!”

Jirrs pulled out the tube, then he positioned himself behind the Bat and pressed his palm against his mouth while Johnny held his nose and head.  
I watched him twitching and convulsing, his guts trying to get rid of the masses of water; yet, having no way to leave his body. Again, I could hear the sounds from over there even, how he gagged and choked on the water in his gullet and windpipe. He squirmed with pain and contorted his body which was filled to bursting and his moves just made it all worse. But no one managed to keep calm anymore at this stage when the water was pressing for release.  
Johnny grinned and Jirrs' trance-like expression was just exhilarating.

After about a minute of that water torture, they let go of his head and again, he bent over and this time, he threw up. Water welled from his mouth and I couldn't contain myself any longer. Breathing hard with lust, I got up from my chair and approached him from behind so he wouldn't glimpse me, even in case he was able to look up. I got between his back and arms and flung mine around his body. It was a one-sided embrace, but I did feel embraced by his arms at each side of my shoulders. I pressed my crotch against his ass, folded my hands in front of his stomach and with a big grin, I let them snap back, compressing his guts so violently that he noisily heaved them up.

Under my touch, I felt his stomach contracting and I listened to his squelchy sounds for some moments, then I hit his nose, just lightly, to make it bleed again and dipped my fingers in his blood. I looked at it; dark red. They must have broken his nose. Licking my lips, I shoved them up his ass. He jerked and gasped and I rubbed my fingers against the inside of him, tormenting his prostate and stimulating the nerves of his sphincter.

“Looks like they've had more than just a moment,” Johnny said with a gleeful voice, but I ignored it and dedicated myself to exploring his ass.

Undeniably, I was creating a kind of intimacy for him which was hard to bear; distracting and unsettling. For me, it was orgasmic business; for him, it was abuse. And the more awkward he felt and how tried to get away from me, the hornier I got. He had stopped vomiting by now and finally found the strength to turn his head, but I kept him from that, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. And locked in this uncomfortable position, I kept fingering him.

He had not said a word for an hour anymore and not even now, he would speak and insult me. He knew that it was of no use and at worst, I'd even enjoy him expressing his trouble like that. After all, the best way to spoil my sadistic pleasures was to remain silent and play along. But that would only get me to lose it and try even harder.  
I pinched his prostate through his rectum and he jerked and hissed. Grinning, I repeated it at being gifted with this sublime reaction and again, he jerked and groaned with pain this time. Your pain, my pleasure.

I kept tormenting his prostate between my fore- and middle finger until he was whimpering, unable to keep to himself any longer, then I drew back and slapped his ass, smacking my lips with delight. I let go of his head and ducked under his arm to leave him.  
A little more satisfied, I walked back to my place, my grin growing. As I passed Johnny, I wiped my fingers clean and smeared the shit all over his shirt. Johnny glanced at me and pressed his lips together, understanding that this was punishment for his improper conduct, daring to mock me in this nasty way. Smirking, I sat down and when Jirrs was looking at me, I opened my mouth and eyes wide, holding my breath, silently instructing him to proceed with the abuse. He got it went to fetch it while Johnny was busy looking at the floor again.

Stage 5: Plastic surprise

It was a small and transparent, even very vulgar thing, but the vulgarity of it would vanish as soon as we would use it the way it was supposed to be used tonight.  
Johnny pulled the plastic bag over his head and Jirrs hurried to seal it air tight with the duct-tape. As soon as he realized what was happening, he threw his head around and squirmed, but Jirrs was done already and they positioned themselves in front of him to let me watch.  
He kept struggling and within a few moments, he was breathing fast already. Real panic. The sound of the bag moving as it was filled with air and drained again together with his frantic efforts to get more oxygen out of it turned into an audiovisual stimulation of a special kind. The more he tried to breathe fresh air, the more stifling it got.

Soon, the plastic was sticking to his skin and only slightly expanding as he breathed out. He convulsed his body and struggled in his ties, making jerky movements and rubbing his head against his shoulder to try to remove the bag, but it would stick to his head.  
I sat up and clutched the armrest tightly, feeling his trouble. When the bag didn't expand anymore at all, his moves turned more desperate and expansive. His knees gave way and he slumped down, his arms being lifted so violently that he most likely dislocated his shoulder or both of them.  
Tied up, bleeding, aching all over and suffocating. The highlight of the evening.  
His knees remained on the floor while his legs kept twitching, his fingers tensing up and his head still moving restlessly.

Spellbound, I watched him, not noticing my nails breaking as I pressed them into the wood of the armrest. It was such a thrill to watch him in his death struggle; how his mind could not do anything to save him and how his body was failing him as well. He was so hot in his squirms and writhes that I absent-mindedly groped my dick through my pants while keeping my eyes glued to his body to not miss a second of this magnificent spectacle.  
Behind me, Meds was going to pieces, his fingers buried in his hair, pulling at it to relieve the stress.

He sank down further and stretched his legs until they were trembling.  
On the brink of death.  
I got up from my seat, slowly, unaware of myself moving, still gazing at him in ecstasy. Two fingers were bleeding since I had hurt them while clutching at the armrest so tightly, but I didn't even feel that pain. All I felt was just in front of me, life instinct surfacing at its best.  
He went into a full-body spasm, his limbs trembling terribly. Through the steamed up plastic foil, I could see his mouth and eyes wide open with terror.

“Please,” I heard Meds whispering behind me.

Just some more. One more moment to enjoy this.  
His head snapped back and his legs kicked air as he was jerking uncontrollably, fighting death so desperately.  
My pants got wet. Pre-cum.  
Thank you.

I snapped my fingers and Johnny took his knife, knelt down and cut through the plastic. He tore at it until most of it was gone, then he left him there.  
The first breath was the loudest and most desperate one I had ever heard yet. Frantically, he tried to pump fresh air into his imploded lungs and choked on it. Wheezing and coughing, he hung in the air, his body shaking and still twitching. Tears were in his eyes and his hair was sticking to his head; he was drenched in sweat.  
Slowly, I sat down again and pressed my back against the backrest to ground myself.  
I had died along, struggled along, suffered along and I was out of breath too. While I watched him trying to catch his, I fondled my bulge and rubbed the thumb against the glans, spreading the pre-cum some more.

Johnny glanced at me and clenched his teeth, biting back the laugh while Meds was about to leave his place behind me and check on the man when I took his wrist and kept him back.

“He's alright,” I whispered, my voice sounding weird from arousal and fascination.

While he was still trying to recover, I gave a scream of a whistle and Johnny left his place to come and listen to my suggestions. He bent down and I whispered into his ear: “Get the noose.”

“Kay, boss.”

Stage 6: The Grand Finale

He went to the back of the room to get the rope. Jirrs was waiting next to our man, watching him closely in case he should suffer from a sudden heart-attack. Johnny returned with the noose, swiftly got it over his head, pulled at it to force him to get up and when he was standing, he attached the end of it to the rope which was already keeping his arms up. He was shaky on his legs and several times, his knees gave way, but he forced himself to keep standing, understanding that if he gave in and dropped to his knees now he'd strangle himself.

I watched him pooling his strengths and straightening his legs, but his thighs were still trembling. Tomorrow, two big contusions would show there.  
He was gazing at the floor, concentrating and forcing every muscle in his body to keep himself on his legs. Finally, he seemed like having braced up for the next two minutes at least, but then his knees gave way again and he slumped down a little, the noose tightly embracing his neck. Just escaped suffocation and now about to get strangled. I grinned and gave him one more minute.

The entire evening had been building up to this point when his body would break, finally. The grand finale. When his mind wasn't strong enough anymore to force his body to persevere and he would have to face his own weakness.  
And it would be a random man with a black hat and trench coat who'd show him about his limits. How frustrating.

Again, I saw him struggling. He squinted his eyes shut, gritted his teeth and tried to keep himself up on his legs for a little longer, desperately, knowing that as soon as he’d cave in to the pain, he’d die.  
The sweetness of those few moments, this utter despair and hopelessness, it made me feel pure bliss. I was dwelling on his physical and mental pain, even more so on his mental pain and I lived for those moments.  
He squeezed another gasp out, then his expression turned even more desperate and I watched him falling.  
The next image was priceless. He opened his mouth, but no sound would leave it and I could feel the noose cutting into his flesh. I opened my mouth, feeling it on my skin too.

He was fighting with himself, on the one hand trying to stay alive and get up again and on the other hand wishing to pass out to escape this hell since this was the only way possible to escape it.  
I’d help him. Another whistle and the leader showed up by my side again. I took a small bottle and a piece of cloth out of my pocket and handed them over. He knew what he had to do with it.

While he uncapped it and poured some of the transparent liquid on the cloth, I got up and approached him. He wouldn’t look up anymore so I could move and act the way I pleased.  
When Johnny was done, he went to him and pressed the cloth against his mouth and nose. He tried to turn his head, but resistance was futile. A few moments later, his eyelids sank down and he collapsed. I hurried to catch his body and Johnny cut through the rope so I could place him on the ground. He gave me the bottle and the cloth and I put it back into my pocket; I knew that sooner or later, I'd need it again. Johnny and I were so well attuned to each other by now that I didn't need to issue any orders anymore at that stage. I got up and crossed my arms, looking at him. A huge body, so strong, so many muscles and now so weak. Covered in scratches, swellings, bleeding cuts, cold sweat and tears.

“Leave me alone,” I said.

And Johnny glanced at me, then he left together with the others. He knew what would follow and he wasn’t eager to stay and watch it. They’d wait outside and then finish their job.

I knelt down and looked at him from close. He looked almost peaceful in his unconsciousness. I took off the gloves, bent over and untied his arms, then I placed them at each side of his head, but it didn’t appeal to me that way and I moved one of them down. He was lying on the right side of his face and hair was covering his eyes. I brushed over his skin to wipe them away, very gently, then I had another look at him. A line of dried blood going from his nostrils down to his lips and from his lower lip down his chin. I would keep it that way since I liked the sight of blood in his face.

As I kept looking at his lips, I could not resist touching him again. I got rid of the trench coat to move a little more freely, then I turned to him again and lightly brushed over his cheek. He kept his eyes closed and I saw no sign of life.  
My dick grew and I just touched him again, this wounded Eros. With my fingers resting on his cheek, I gazed at him in fascination. So strong-minded, so stubborn, so righteous. And now so vulnerable. I bit down on my lower lip, tensed up my fingers and scratched his cheek very slowly and forcefully. Three slightly bleeding lines went from his eye to his jaw now. A dead piece of flesh, but only dead in his mind. And not even there, he was completely dead. The ether was only numbing his senses, but his subconscious would witness everything; it would feel the touch, the gentleness, the pain and the violence done to him. 

He would wake up and not remember anything, but his subconscious would and it would torture him with abscure imagery and nightmares. He would not know where they were coming from, believing that his mind was exaggerating the events of this night, not considering that what he was forced to see in his mind’s eye was what had truly happened. Thinking of this confusing experience already made me smirk with glee.

When I was finally able to leave his face, I let my eyes slide over his back and down to his butt cheeks. It felt so forbidden to look at them, especially keeping in mind what I would do to him, and that thrill made me shift on my knees, looking forward to bursting through this tiny hole with that rock of mine. I spread them and looked at his opening. Dark hair around his anus. A real man. Since he seemed quite relaxed, I pushed one finger in and added a second and when I didn’t feel him clenching his muscles indeed, I drew back and grinned. I slapped his ass and got up.  
First, I dropped the jacket and the shirt, then I got rid of the shoes and pants. I wanted to fuck him naked; it was such a breathtaking experience that I insisted on this, even if it was cold. I _had_ to feel his skin on mine and I'd just feel distracted by the fabric covering me when I was fucking them. 

I dropped my pants on the floor and looked at my erection. Perfect. That show had not failed to raise it and pump it up to bursting. I licked my lips, pushed his legs apart and got down between them. He was drooling on the floor by now.  
I reached under his body and lifted his ass up, then I bent backwards and grabbed my clothes, put them under his body and let it sink down. His ass was just at dick level now. Again, I glanced at his face and suddenly had an idea. I bent forward, invaded his mouth with the same fingers which had been in his ass just before and moved them around to wet them. I even pushed them in so deep that I could feel his velum, but he wouldn’t gag. I remembered him gagging just before, throwing up the water and I closed my eyes and felt my dick twitching with delight.

I wetted them with his spittle, lubed my dick with it, grabbed his ass cheeks and wiggled my ass to aim at his opening.  
To push or not to push.  
Again, I licked my lips and tried to resist the urge to shove it in.  
To sneak in or to slam it in.  
Breathing hard with lust, I tried to stay where I was and to decide for sneaking in tonight, but with every further second beholding that pretty ass of his, it got harder to even consider sneaking in. I wanted to rip this rosy thing open, to tear the tender skin apart and make it bleed. This perfection was insulting me, it was like an affront and I had to get rid of it.

I smacked my lips, grinned and slammed it in.  
As my boner dug through tightness, pushing flesh aside like a motor yacht cutting through the water, I bent back and released a passionate, loud moan. It was such a sensual experience that I needed a moment to process this physical information and I froze in his ass, indulging in this terrific tightness.  
Bruce Wayne was into women. I knew that. Never, anything else but an endoscope would have entered his ass yet and I took so much delight in being the first one to stem this billion dollar rose.

Slowly, I drew back and let my dick almost slide from his ass. Bright red blood on my dick. A lovely contrast, the pearly colour of my genital and those thin vessel-like lines of his blood on it. I glanced at his face and found it as relaxed as before. A pleasure pang in my guts made me suck in the air sharply. I was raping him and he wasn’t taking notice of it. Cause he was unconscious. His mind passed out and his body suffering. I could do with him whatever I pleased and he would take it. He would not object to it, he would not complain and he would not tell me to stop.  
Chuckling, I rammed it back into his torn ass, so hard that my pubes slammed against his ass cheeks. Buried so deeply, loved so deeply. 

“Oh Bruce,” I whispered and wiggled my hips again to widen his ass a little and feel the soft walls of flesh embracing me so tenderly inside.

I really wouldn’t need much to come and I’d have to hold back to enjoy this some more. This was supposed to be a one-time-thing and the joke couldn’t be repeated a second time, so I had to make the most of this opportunity and enjoy it to the fullest. With greatest relish, I drew back and slammed it into his hole again and this time, I moaned along. I repeated this a few times and with every time, my moans got louder and more passionate.

Outside, Johnny, Meds and Jirrs heard them. As usual, when the Joker would claim and mark his victim and they were forced to wait through this to take care of the remnants then, Johnny lit a cigarette and closed his eyes while smoking it, dancing to these moans in his mind. A step to the right, a step to the left; AAAHH, a short one, jump; MMMMMHHH, a long stride; AH, a very short one, step; AHHH, a breathy one, a bow.

Meds tried to stand it for as long as he could, then he left and went outside to get this out of his head. And Jirrs closed his eyes and tried to think of what it might look like, how the Joker’s dick would slide in and out. Whenever the Joker turned to fucking them, he was growing hard too. He could not tell why, but when he was listening to his moans and seeing such explicit images in his mind he'd forget that he was a man and just go with that flow. He was always waiting for this moment when they’d be told leave and they would have to wait, for he could listen to his moans then and think of him naked and having sex without feeling like a pervert, since after all, the Joker _was_ having sex then indeed.

A small puddle of blood was right under my dick now since some of it stuck to it and dripped on the floor whenever I drew back. He was bleeding like a pig; yet, not many were able to lubricate themselves like that. But maybe it was just because usually, I did not fuck them as hard.  
Bruce Wayne, however, was a unique fuck. He demanded rough treatment since he could take a lot and while others would have fainted from the pain already, he was still grinning and asking for more. Except for now, when his slack body was pushed forth and pulled back and his lips were cleaning the floor instead of grinning.

By now, I had turned to short thrusts and his face was rubbing against the floor, smoothly sliding along on his own spittle. Those strands of hair which I had removed from his face were just covering his eyes again, but I loved watching them moving now since they gave me the impression that he was alive. Otherwise, his body was so heavy and so unpliable that I had started to sweat as I was trying to keep him in place. His muscular physique was taking its toll now and once, his body had almost slipped from my hands, but I had gripped his ass a little more tightly and unintentionally, I hade made him bleed there too with my broken fingernails.

I looked at the crescent-shaped marks from my nails now and rose my eyebrows. My dick was claiming a little more space even in his ass now and I took a deep breath, grinned and bent forward, burying my dick fully in his ass again while I tore at his back. I rammed my nails into his shoulders, then I moved them down, very slowly and with as much pressure as I was able to create without breaking my nails again. I sucked in the air in pure ecstasy when I saw the red lines which my bruising touch had left on his skin. From his nape down to his ass. I gripped his ass cheeks again and gave him a short love thrust. Grinning, I decided that I was not done yet with the marks and bent forward to give him some more. 

And this time, I concentrated on the feeling instead of the sight and as I felt my nails ripping his skin, so soft, but such an interesting kind of physical resistance, I closed my eyes and listened to the faint sound of skin tearing.  
I thought of his name again and opened my mouth, lost in rapture and a murderous frenzy. This dead body, at my mercy, approving of whatever I did to it.  
I brushed over the fresh scratches and slapped his ass again, and again and again, until my palm hurt, then I turned to slapping it with my other hand. It was so delightful to feel his flesh giving way and hearing that sharp sound. When his ass cheeks were all red, I opened my eyes wide, drew back until my dick left his ass and then bent down to bite him. I wanted to feel him with every inch of my body, with my skin, my nails, my lips, my teeth; I wanted to eat him alive.

Soft skin, like a fleshy apple between my teeth. I bit down as hard as I had to, feeling bolts of ecstasy making my body and mind twitch. I grinded my teeth and gripped his ass cheek firmly, making him bleed there again. I wanted to crush this body, squeeze it to death, squelch it and break it between my teeth, but his flesh could not be broken.

Totally out of my mind, suffering from a horrible fit of blood rage, I drew back, looked at the bite mark and lashed out at him again to rip his skin open with my teeth. It was a mark like from a pit bull bite, red and bleeding and it looked so tasty that I just had to do it again.  
After the second bite mark, I slammed my dick back into his ass to cater to my need for utter destruction. And buried like that, I let my body fall down on his and just bit his nape between his neck and his collar bone. The consistency of the flesh was a bit different but none the less appealing and it made me hum around the skin in my mouth and close my eyes. I grinded my teeth and worked on that spot until it was bleeding too, then I licked the blood and sucked hard. A bruise and love mark at the same time.

Copper in my mouth.  
Mostly, I came to taste only my own blood and admitted, it turned me on just as much as anyone else’s blood would have turned me on in my mouth. But his. His was unique. No other villain's or hero’s blood tasted as bittersweet as his, at least in my imagination. I reached for his face and pressed my palm against it to feel his steady breath on my skin. With his skin still between my teeth and blood seeping from it, I closed my eyes and drifted off into a weird dreamy state.  
I startled when my fingers slid in as he opened his mouth. Instantly, I left the bite spot and pushed myself up to see what was going on under me.

His eyelids moved and he opened them a little while he moved his tongue around in his mouth so as to tell what that horrible taste was about. He was waking up.  
I had expected this to happen; I just had not been able to tell when. Now that it did, I grinned and watched him waking up, delighted at his thorough confusion.

“Wha...aaahhh,” he groaned and squinted his eyes shut.

Yes, the pain.  
So exquisite.

I watched him swallowing laboriously, then I decided to speed things up a little and shoved my dick back in. He jerked and squirmed with pain, contorting his face and clenching his fist and I was rewarded with some most superb jerk-off material again.  
He tried to push himself away from the ground, but his arms gave way and he fell down again. Yes, we had dislocated his shoulders; one of them, at least.

“Aahh...what..” he tried again, but the words gut stuck in his throat as I drew back and pushed it in again, grinning expectantly.

No way would he see enough of me to know that it was me. However, before he would manage to turn around and see me through his tear-filled eyes, I stuck my hand into the pocket of my pants under his crotch and took the small bottle and the piece of cloth out. I poured some of it on the cloth and bent down to press it against his nose and mouth and like the first time, he tried to escape it, but I grabbed a fistful of hair and kept him in place. And soon, the struggling died away and his neck muscles relaxed.

I experienced that process of fainting with all my senses. How he struggled in his mind and tried to remain conscious and finally lost to the caustic smell of the ether.  
How his eyes grew smaller and smaller, how he fought to keep them open and failed so miserably; how his pained expression changed and his face muscles relaxed and finally, his eyelids covered his eyes fully and one more moment of semi-consciousness, one moment when he was on the edge of nothing and everything, and it passed and he lost it. The transition was such a magic process for me to watch that I could jerk off just to that alone.

Now he was dead meat again and I got back to my abuse; though, I kept watching his head moving forth and back as I fucked him. It made me smile, that strong an vivid feeling of power and control.  
Again, I bent back, closed my eyes, grabbed his ass cheeks and fucked him hard, concentrating on the slippery feeling of which I knew that it was coming from his blood. 

It was a special pleasure to fuck unconscious people since they would not try to escape and I could just fuck them the way I pleased. Teasing my corona, only inserting my glans, pushing it in fully or just masturbating the middle of my shaft; whatever I pleased, I could do it.  
And tonight, I longed for violence. Again, I started moaning and fucked him so hard that my balls slapped against his and both kissed. I’d bruise them some more; they were sore already and I’d just make some more vessels pop and spill the blood.

That thought drove me close to the edge. I grabbed them and squeezed hard.  
That feeling of firm meat, being squished so brutally, bursting and bleeding.  
Harder.  
I could feel the flesh trying to escape between my fingers.  
My nails cutting into the skin.  
Harder.

I was panting and fucking him as violently as possible while I was still holding his ass cheek with one hand and my other straining his testicle through my fingers and it all turned into such a sensual overload that I came.  
I cried out loud, shamelessly, filling the room with my cry of ecstasy and kept rocking my hips to pump the semen into his body. Grinning, I kept screaming along and fucked myself into pure bliss.

A few more hearty squeezes, a few more thrusts and I felt satisfied enough to stop moving. Panting loudly, I collapsed on his body and buried my nose in his hair. Spicy and wet from his sweat.  
He’d not remember anything of this. He’d wake up with a sore body, but he wouldn’t know the whole truth. Probably, he'd infer what had happened from his bruises, but the act itself wouldn't be in his conscious mind.  
I kissed his scalp, then I rolled to the side to lie on my back. Above us, the rope was still dangling from the roof beam.

It was silent and the only sound I heard was myself breathing. After a long time of inner tension and restlessness, I felt calm and relaxed again. Periodically, tension was building up inside me and I had to make sure to look for a suited release, otherwise I was going to hurt myself and I was too proud for that. I turned my head and looked at him. A broken body. Better his than mine.

Smiling, I sat up and wiped the sweat from my forehead. When I looked at him again, I saw the remnants of the plastic bag still around his throat and I bent down to remove it. Accidentally, I ripped out some hair since the duct-tape was carelessly wrapped around his neck. I looked at the black fluff on the white adhesive surface, then back at his neck. Suddenly, I felt sorry for ripping it out like that. I dropped the tape and got up, rubbing my eyes.

“Johnny!” I shouted and took a few steps back to get some distance between us.

Five seconds later, the torture squad stormed the room and I added: “Dress him up,” while I got dressed myself. They shot me a quick glance, all three of them, then Johnny and Jirrs picked up his clothes and started dressing the body while Meds stood by my side, fighting the urge to throw up. He glanced at me a few times, but I ignored it and took a handkerchief from my pocket to clean my dick. Dressing him was even harder in that state than undressing him and so it took them a while until he was neatly wrapped up in his business attire again.

“Drop him in his car,” I said and went to another room to have a cigarette there by myself.

They carried him outside, put him on the backseat and drove to the parking place where they had picked him up. Jirrs opened the door and they put him on his backseat, then they put the keys into his pocket and left.

While I had my cigarette, strange thoughts forced themselves upon my mind and I could not tell anymore why looking at his hair had inspired such an emotional reaction. I felt much better after this all, but somewhere else in my mind, I felt strange and confused.  
Remembering that I was still wearing make-up, I went to the lavatory to wash it off.  
Better.  
On the way to the exit of the building I passed the torture scene again and saw the many things on the floor and on the table. It made me grin and I whistled the tune of a love song as I headed for my car.

If I had to be honest this had been the most exciting and pleasing night out of all those we had had yet. Not only out of those rendez-vous with other thugs but also out of the Bat's and my meetings. Usually, I did it with the thugs and mostly, we didn't even get to the rape since they spilled their information soon enough to somewhat save themselves, but now I had gone one step further. An innocent and pure soul. Tainted now.  
I grinned and sat down in my car.

I had had many a victim here, but he had been special. I had tried to ignore it, throughout the evening. Of course, I had noticed; how could I have not.  
At some point, he had grown hard.  
Up until then, he had been a random man for me who just happened to be the Batman at night. But this night had made me change my mind. He had earned my respect and he was a different man for me now.

I swallowed involuntarily. And I saw darkness spreading in front of me, swallowing the street, the cars, the lamp posts, the light. It crept into my car and ate me up. My hands were resting on the steering wheel; the cold plastic benumbing my fingers.

He was not a wounded Eros.  
He was a Thanatos too.  
One who had not learned how to spare his own flesh yet.

_______


End file.
